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About New York City

But ooooh, gets me mad too—hiss!—‘cause folks spit it like venom now. Call a gal “whore” an’ they mean trash, dirt, nothin’. Pisses me off! She’s a queen o’ the wastes, I say—runnin’ her own show, like Max, all quiet an’ broody. Ever hear ‘bout that one whore in Nevada, 1800s? Ran a brothel, sure, but also smuggled guns fer outlaws—badass, eh? Kept a pet rattler too, named it Sugar. Sugar! Hah! Imagine that slithery bugger guardin’ her coin—makes me giggle, it does.

Users Reviews

Sometimes, I'm scrolling through streets like Ramona Ave., maybe in my mind losing track of all these tiny details. The humdrum hustle of daily traffic, the chill cafés on Sidewalks of Magnolia Ave.—it all clocks right into your heartbeat. I’m talkin’ about that personal vibe! It gets me laughing, gets me miffed when somebody messes up the vibe, like trashing the clean, heartfelt ambiance.

School board debates rigor, equity as its revises mission statement